Tanner watched her go back into the hall to the staircase. She’d been through so much, and now this. Now, Omega.
He looked at his watch. It was eight-twenty and Ali would be upstairs for at least ten minutes, probably twice as long. He decided to call Fassett at the motel.
It wasn’t going to be the usual conversation with Fassett. No more condescending instructions, no more sermons. It was now the end of the third day; three days of harassment against the suspects of Omega.
John Tanner wanted specifics. He was entitled to them.
Fassett was alarmed, annoyed, at the news director’s precise questions.
«I can’t take time to phone you whenever someone crosses the street.»
«I need answers. The weekend starts tomorrow, and if you want me to go on with this, you’ll tell me what’s happened. Where are they now? What have their reactions been? I’ve got to know.»
For a few seconds there was silence. When Fassett spoke, his voice was resigned. «Very well… Tremayne stayed in New York last night I told you that, remember? While at the Biltmore he met a man named Townsend. Townsend’s a known stock manipulator out of Zurich. Cardone and his wife went to Philadelphia this afternoon. She visited her family in Chestnut Hill and he went out to Bala Cynwyd to meet with a man we know is a high capo in the Mafia. They got back to Saddle Valley an hour ago. The Ostermans are at The Plaza. They’re having dinner later tonight with a couple named Bronson. The Bronsons are friends from years ago. They’re also on the Attorney General’s subversive list.»
Fassett stopped and waited for Tanner to speak.
«And none of them have met? They haven’t even called each other? They’ve made no plans? I want the truth!»
«If they’ve talked it hasn’t been on any telephone we can control, which would mean they’d have to be at pay phones at simultaneous times, which they haven’t. We know they haven’t met—simple surveillance. If any of them has plans, they’re individual, not coordinated… We’re counting on that as I’ve told you. That’s all there is.»
«There doesn’t seem to be any relationship. With any of them?»
«That’s right. That’s what we’ve concluded.»
«But not what you expected. You said they’d panic. Omega would be in panic by now.»
«I think they are. Every one of them. Separately. Our projections are positive.»
«What the hell does that mean?»
«Think. One couple races to a powerful Mafioso. Another meets with a husband and wife who are as fanatic as anyone in the Presidium. And the lawyer has a sudden conference with an international securities thief out of Zurich. That’s panic. The NKVD has many tentacles. Every one of them is on the brink. All we do is sit and wait.»
«Beginning tomorrow, sitting and waiting’s not going to be so easy.»
«Be natural. You’ll find yourself functioning on two levels really quite comfortably. It’s always like that. There’s no danger if you even half carry it off. They’re too concerned with each other now. Remember, you don’t have to hide yesterday afternoon. Talk about it. Be expansive. Do and say what comes naturally about it.»
«And you think they’ll believe me?»
«They haven’t got a choice! Don’t you understand that? You make your reputation as an investigative reporter. Do I have to remind you that investigation ends when the subjects collide? That’s the age-old wrap-up.»
«And I’m the innocent catalyst?»
«You better believe it. The more innocent, the better the wrap-up.»
Tanner lit a cigarette. He couldn’t deny the government man any longer. His logic was too sound. And the safety, the security, the all-holy well-being of Ali and the children was in this cold professional’s hands.
«All right. I greet them all at the door as long-lost brothers and sisters.»
«That’s the way. And if you feel like it, call them all in the morning, make sure they’re coming over. Except the Ostermans, of course. Whatever you’d normally do… And remember, we’re right there. The most sophisticated equipment the biggest corporation on earth owns is at work for you. Not even the smallest weapon could get through your front door.»
«Is that true?»
«We’d know it if a three-inch blade was in someone’s pocket. A four-inch revolver would have you all out of there in sixty seconds.»
Tanner replaced the receiver and drew heavily on his cigarette. As he took his hand off the telephone he had the feeling—the physical feeling—of leaving, jumping, going away.
It was a strange sensation, an awesome sense of loneliness.
And then he realized what it was, and it disturbed him greatly.
His sanity was now dependent on a man named Fassett. He was utterly in his control.
Part Three: The Weekend
17
The taxi drew up to the front of the Tanner house. John’s dog, the stringy Welsh terrier, ran up and down the driveway, yapping with each advance and retreat, waiting for someone to acknowledge that the visitors were welcome. Janet raced across the front lawn. The taxi door opened; the Ostermans stepped out. Each carried gift-wrapped boxes. The driver brought out a single large suitcase.
From inside the house, Tanner looked at them both: Bernie, in an expensively cut Palm Beach jacket and light-blue slacks; Leila, in a white suit with a gold chain around her waist, the skirt well above her knees, and a wide-brimmed soft hat covering the left side of her face. They were the picture of California success. Yet somehow there was a trace of artifice with Bernie and Leila; they had moved into the real money barely nine years ago.
Or was their success itself a façade, wondered Tanner as he watched the couple bending down to embrace his daughter. Had they, instead, for years and years been inhabitants of a world where scripts and shooting schedules were only secondary—good covers, as Fassett might say?
Tanner looked at his watch. It was two minutes past five. The Ostermans were early—according to their original schedule. Perhaps it was their first mistake. Or perhaps they didn’t expect him to be there. He always left the Woodward studio early when the Ostermans came, but not always in time to be home before five-thirty. Leila’s letter had said plainly their flight from Los Angeles was due at Kennedy around five. A plane being late was understandable, normal. A flight that got in ahead of schedule was improbable.
They’d have to have an explanation. Would they bother?
«Johnny! For heaven’s sake! I thought I heard the pup barking. It’s Bernie and Leila. What are you standing there for?» Ali had come out of the kitchen.
«Oh, sorry… I just wanted to let Janet have her moment with them.»
«Go on out, silly. I’ll just set the timer.» His wife walked back towards the kitchen as Tanner approached the front door. He stared at the brass knob and felt as he thought an actor might feel before making his first entrance in a difficult part. Unsure—totally unsure—of his reception.
He wet his lips and drew the back of his hand across his forehead. Deliberately he twisted the knob and pulled the door back swiftly. With his other hand he unlatched the aluminum screened panel and stepped outside.
The Osterman weekend had begun.
«Welcome, Schreibers!» he shouted with a wide grin. It was his usual greeting; Bernie considered it the most honorific.
«Johnny!»
«Hi, darling!»
Thirty yards away, they shouted back and smiled broad smiles. Yet even thirty yards away John Tanner could see their unsmiling eyes. Their eyes searched his—briefly, but unmistakably. For a split second Bernie even stopped smiling, stopped any motion whatsoever.